Forget Love, I'd Rather Fall In Chocolate
by Jenn1984
Summary: Gus knew it was a bad idea, but Shawn convinced him to do it for the chocolate.


Petra wanted a story with someone messing up while trying to use non-discriminatory language, so that is all for her.

This was supposed to be for the whumpathon last year, and I don't know if it even qualifies now, but I finished it. It's not nearly as epic as I had intended, mostly because I fail at one shots, but I wanted to do it for the banter. And I liked the banter, so I hope you like the banter too.

Also, the last half of this is unbetaed.

Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own Psych.

* * *

It all started when Shawn had gotten this _vibe_. Whether it was a good vibe or a bad vibe depended on who was asked, but it was one of those really intense vibes, complete with shaky legs and rolling around on the floor with a multitude of old movie references that oddly made sense to Detective Juliet O'Hara.

Gus was pretty sure this _vibe_ was due to the fact that their criminal had a connection to a chocolate factory. He didn't believe Shawn had any other reason, but that didn't stop him from being annoyingly convincing.

"Do it for the M&Ms, Gus." One little sentence was all it ever took to bring Gus on board.

So he _had _done it for the M&Ms, and the milk chocolate, the dark chocolate, the milky ways, skittles, snickers bars; you name it.

It was pretty simple, really, once they were inside. The plant manager, highly trained in the art of non discriminatory language, was bound to slip up sooner or later and neither man was above using that to their advantage.  
_  
"I think you would like the dark chocolate very much, Mr. Guster."_

Shawn and Gus shared a look before Gus narrowed his eyes. "Excuse me?" he said in that no nonsense sort of way.

The plant manager looked at their serious expressions and turned slightly pink. "Oh, no, not that I mean to - not that I mean to say that you_ are dark chocolate," he said quickly, adding fuel to the fire with, "but not that you don't taste good, I'm sure you taste good and-"_

That's when he started to sweat and Gus just popped another piece of chocolate in his mouth without looking away. It took all Gus' willpower not to make eye contact with Shawn because neither would be able to keep up the act if they did.

The manager wiped his forehead, averting his gaze. "Oh no. Oh God, I'm so sorry, please - please disregard that." He wiped his forehead again while Gus folded his arms and tipped his head to the side, waiting for a response. "I - oh God, please don't report me. Just-" Turning around, he grabbed two large bags from behind his desk and began rummaging through drawers. "Skittles? Do we like skittles? All colors...oh, not that - God."

Shawn walked up behind the manager and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Let it go, Bernie," he whispered. Poor Bernie let out a long breath, continuing to stuff the bags full of candy. When he finished, he handed the bags to Shawn.

"Why don't I show you how we make M&Ms," he said, walking swiftly from the room. Shawn and Gus finally looked at each other and after a fist bump, followed by a quick victory dance, the two followed their tour guide down the hall.

The chocolate was heaven and, at that moment, totally worth it. At _that_ moment, though, and they were no longer _at that moment_. They were now at a completely different moment, and at _this_ moment, a bag of free samples was _not_ worth it.

Because Shawn had been right, as usual. There had been a connection between his criminal and the chocolate factory. One that had to do with an arms dealer and the FBI and a stake out that would soon turn into a hostage situation if Shawn and Gus didn't get _the hell_ _out of there_.

"Maybe he doesn't know we're here," Shawn said brightly through a rainbow colored grin.

Gus glared, because Gus was good at glaring. Very good when glaring at Shawn because he had perfected that particular glare over the years. "He got over the intercom system, Shawn. He said, and I quote, 'I know you're here, Spencer. And your psychic sidekick, too.'"

Shawn frowned. "I think you're mixing that up with Scooby Doo, but you got the quote wrong. How did that go, when the bad guy was caught at the end?"

"I'm not arguing cartoons with you when there's a killer loose in this factory who wants to kill us!" Gus hissed, ducking lower next to the giant pot of chocolate he and Shawn were hiding behind.

"Oh, come on, I know you know it," Shawn said.

Gus' eyebrows shot up. "I do know it."

"So just tell me."

"No," Gus said simply.

Shawn huffed. "Oh come on, Gus, don't be a 9 year old who just had his He-Man lunch box stolen by his best friend."

Gus whirled around. "That was _you_?!"

"Dude," Shawn said with a look over his shoulder when something hard hit the floor, "it had She-Ra on it, too, and you were nine years old. No self respecting nine year old boy carries one of those."

Before Gus could retort, Shawn turned and walked over to something glinting on the ground. Gus followed him.

"What is it?" he asked as Shawn looked up to the planform above them.

"Bullet casing," Shawn answered casually.

Gus started to panic. "Oh my god, I'm gonna die here," he said meekly, turning from side to side to find the best (and quickest) way out of the factory.

"Don't panic, buddy, you're not gonna-" Shawn began, stopping mid sentence as his eyes widened. Gus followed his gaze and watched in horror as the poor, misguided plant manager dropped from above into a giant vat of newly cooked chocolate.

Silence.

Then, "Little boy! My chocolate must be untouched by human hands!"

Gus turned his head slowly to stare at his best friend with a look of pure disbelief. Shawn returned the gaze.

"Inappropriate?" he asked casually.

Disbelief turned to anger. "A man is dead, Shawn!"

"And a perfectly good vat of chocolate is ruined, Gus! What's your point?"

Gus shook his head. "I can't play this game with you right now. Just get me the hell outta here!" he cried, taking off towards the double doors on the other side of the room. "That psycho probably heard you."

"Don't worry, I already texted Jules and she said she would be here any minute," Shawn reassured, running behind Gus.

They were almost to the doors. "Every time you start a sentence with 'Don't worry' or 'Don't panic' or 'Don't be such a', something bad happens," Gus angrily spat.

"Would you prefer something like 'Have faith, Gus' or 'Fear not, brother'? We can totally take this to the next level," Shawn retorted.

Comeback ready on the tip of his tongue, Gus' words stalled when something cold and hard collided with the side of his head and a flurry of colored spots burst into his vision as he crashed to the floor.

"Gus!"

"Psychic!"

Gus heard Shawn cry out and tried to open his eyes, but his focus wasn't steady anymore.

"Shawn," he croaked, unable to follow the sounds of crashing and yelling.

With a deep breath, Gus forced an eyelid to crack and gasped to find his best friend flailing on the back of their criminal, arms wrapped tightly around his neck.

"I'll kill you Psychic," the man, whose bald head and face were now pink, spit through a twisted grin.

_We're doomed_, Gus thought grimly. Their criminal was wildly swinging a lead pipe towards his back, dangerously close to Shawn's already bleeding forehead.

And that's when the cavalry barged in, guns up and ready for action.

"FREEZE!" Juliet cried fiercly, startling Gus, Shawn and even their assaliant, who now had Shawn in his grip with his feet still off the ground.

"Drop the Psychic," Lassiter growled, and their criminal did just that. Shawn fell to the floor with an, "Oof."

Gus closed his eyes and listened to the commotion without paying attention anymore. They were safe now, and he could block it out until later.

A pair of steady hands pressed something cool to what he assumed was his bleeding face while a pair of _unsteady_ hands pulled on his arm.

"Shawn?" Gus whispered. He cracked an eye to see the horrified, bleeding mess of his best friend's face hovering over him.

"You all right, buddy?" Shawn asked, hands still shaky.

Gus snorted. "Pretty sure I'm not all right," he answered. Shawn's face paled even more.

"I'm sorry," Shawn said in a sincerely pathetic voice and Gus knew he meant it.

As the paramedic's lifted Gus onto a gurney, he looked at his best friend and said, "You pulled a Cary Elwes on Andre the Giant over there."

Shawn smiled as they began walking out the doors. "I didn't know you saw that."

"You can cross it off the list now," Gus murmered.

The two men smirked, simultaneously holding out their fists to bump together.

"All in a day's work, huh?" Shawn asked, following the gurney into the open air.

Gus continued to grin. "You know that's right."


End file.
